12. Emerson
EMERSON
“Good morning, Samson.” I pause mid-step toward the car. “Should I call you Samson or do you want me to call you Nico?”
“Either is fine.” When I don’t move, he swallows whatever he was about to say and dips his head. “Nico.”
“See? That wasn’t so hard.”
“No, ma’am.”
Amused, I let him hold the back door open for me as I slide in, pulling my laptop from my bag before he’s even buckled his seatbelt.
Despite Garrett doing everything in his power to keep me in bed, I was up early, answering half a dozen emails including a statement that Roan sent me to approve stating that Garrett and I are enjoying our time as newlyweds and to please respect our privacy.
Simple.
Straightforward.
And absolutely not going to deter anyone from putting us under a microscope if they really want to.
“Nico?”
“Yes?”
“When we get to work, I want you to meet up with Des and merge your calendar with mine so he can keep track of where we both need to be.”
“I can take a look, but I went through with Tom and—”
“Nico, listen to me.” I wait for him to look at the road then back at me in the rearview mirror.
“I want parent-teacher conferences and school holidays. Half days. Read your kid a book at school day.” I wave my hand.
“I can’t guarantee that everything will work out perfectly, but I will do my damnedest to make sure your girls get their dad as much as possible. ”
He clears his throat—twice—and then nods. “Thank you. I, uh, that means a lot.”
I’ve only met Poppy and Georgia once, but I can’t imagine what it’s like to have two little girls under six while trying to navigate a new and dangerous career and the entirety of your support system is your mother.
It’s a lot for anyone to navigate.
Any of the guys on the team would drop everything if Samson or his girls needed something.
Hell, so would I. My favorite thing growing up was when my father would let me spin around in his office chair.
I felt like I was on top of the world, like the view of Chicago from the high-rise was simply my playground.
Years later and not a whole lot has changed.
I smile and turn back toward my laptop, knowing that he probably needs a minute, and that’s just as well because I have a mountain of work to do before we get to the office. Unfortunately, the moment I open my email is the exact moment Oakey decides to text me.
OAKEY: How’s it going?
EMERSON: We’ve been in the car for five minutes so 10/10
OAKEY: Cute
OAKEY: We want him to do well—take him to get coffee or something today
EMERSON: Let me see if I can fit that in between all 7897897 things I need to do today
OAKEY: It’s important for him and your image
EMERSON: I literally have people who get me coffee and that’s not me being a bitch
EMERSON: I’m most productive in my office or somewhere in the building and now with commuting…
OAKEY: Do it for me
I’m about to respond something snarky but pause, my fingers hovering above the screen as I replay Garrett’s words from the night before.
EMERSON: How about a trade?
OAKEY: Sure, let’s pretend I’m going to agree to that
EMERSON: I’m buying you the tackiest Christmas present I can find
OAKEY: Can’t wait
OAKEY: Anyway…
EMERSON: Have you dug into Darren Waite at all? Garrett’s lead guitarist?
OAKEY: It’s like you don’t know me at all
OAKEY: Roan and I talked after our first little sit-down—he won’t pull the trigger on severing ties between Darren and Descending North until Garrett is ready
My heart squeezes in my chest knowing Garrett is struggling with what the band’s future will look like. But I’m glad preparations are already underway. Garrett’s heart is so much softer than mine, and I like that about him.
Usually.
But right now I wish I could cut the cord for him and be rid of Darren sooner rather than later. Patience has never really been my thing—Isla and I have always had that in common.
EMERSON: Good.
OAKEY: Are you worried about something specific?
EMERSON: No, I just want to cut his balls off and be done with it
EMERSON: Figuratively of course
OAKEY: Naturally
EMERSON: Who did you assign to Garrett?
OAKEY: Jace
EMERSON: Really?
OAKEY: Yes
EMERSON: Huh
OAKEY: Don’t do that
EMERSON: But they’re so similar
OAKEY: That’s the point
OAKEY: Jace is unassuming—he fits in everywhere
Pondering that, I let my eyes travel to the front where Nico appears to be relaxed in the driver’s seat. His hand on the wheel isn’t forced, just draped over the leather as he navigates us through the early morning traffic.
Alert.
But casual.
Until you get to the set of his shoulders, the tension in his posture obvious only because I’m looking for it. He’s just driving but he’s not complacent, and Tom trusts him to keep me safe.
I’m not sure he knows how big of a deal this is, because while it may not be the most exciting detail he ever works, it’s still one of the most important. Because Tom wouldn’t let him be with me if he wasn’t completely sure I’d be safe.
I’ve traveled with security before, but this is the first time I’ve ever had anyone assigned to me for more than a single event. Under normal circumstances, I’d balk at this arrangement, but honestly, having Nico embedded in my day-to-day operations feels like the least of my worries right now.
EMERSON: I think Nico is going to be great for you guys
OAKEY: Me too—send him down after he gets familiar with the floor and talks to Des.
EMERSON: I will
OAKEY: And it should go without saying but let me know if you need anything
EMERSON: Tell your wife I need a girls’ night
And really, I do, because Isla is gone and apparently I’m no longer allowed to hide at my desk to maintain my standard eighty hours a week. At least when she was here, one of us would force the other to venture outside occasionally.
But those days have long since passed and I’m happy for her—I am—but the life she’s created isn’t meant for me. It’s not what I want.
Not part of my plan.
And it’s for the best that I remember that.